


Reflections in Silver and Blue

by RangerGiselle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adamant Fortress, Amnesia, Angst, Battle, Death, F/M, Grey Wardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RangerGiselle/pseuds/RangerGiselle
Summary: Wulf has only two memories before his Joining:  someone speaking his name, and Hawke leaving him for dead.  He'd love to find her, to repay her for her treachery, but now that all Wardens are hearing the Calling, other issues arise in the Grey Warden ranks.Written for a prompt (see Author Note for full details):  Fenris becomes a Grey Warden, and Hawke finds out at Adamant.  Enjoy!





	Reflections in Silver and Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRareFereldanCatLord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRareFereldanCatLord/gifts).



> *Written in response to the Month of Writing Fanfiction Challenge on Tumblr. Challenge Day 22: A challenge set by someone else. 
> 
> My challenge was set by TheRareFereldanCatLord here on AO3, and they wanted me to select from the "Monday Motivation" prompts in the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers and Readers group on Facebook (did you follow all that)? LOL
> 
> SO THE REAL PROMPT: Fenris becomes a Grey Warden, and Hawke finds out at Adamant. Enjoy!

Reflections in Silver and Blue

  
  


_ Memory, what a fickle bitch.   _ So elusive and ephemeral, each time I think I understand something, it slips through my grasp like so much sand.  I have but two memories that remain clear now. Someone called me “Wulf”, so that is my name. The other, I can never forget:  Hawke’s face when she left me for dead, my blood pouring out on white paving stones as she walked away with a blonde man with a staff.  I am not certain where this took place, only that if I ever see either of them again, neither of them will walk away from the encounter.

My muscles remember how to swing a sword which was good enough for the Grey Wardens to recruit me when they found me wandering outside Val Foret.  Although I understand this was some time after my last memory, as there were no familiar white paving stones to be found. They say I was nearly feral, attacking any who tried to get near me, cursing at them in a language they did not understand, but of that, I have no memory.

I also have these strange markings all over my skin.  They are magic, that much is clear, as they sometimes glow when I fight.  The Warden Commander - a mage herself - believes the marks might be Tevinter in origin, not that it means much to me.  She insists my memory was taken by blood magic, and I have to wonder why.  _ Who was I that I was important enough to be targeted by a blood mage?  Is that who Hawke was? Or her blonde friend? _

Trying to remember inevitably causes pain, so I stop.  I am Wulf now, a Grey Warden, and I suppose my life could be worse.  I protect the world against the darkspawn threat - at least I did until recently... when the Calling started.

At first I believed the song was another cursed memory taunting me from the edges of my conscious mind, but then the other Wardens also mentioned hearing the melody.  We all are, and it means we are going to die, every last one of us. It is not supposed to go this way, each Warden gets their Calling in their own time, and they go to the Deep Roads to kill as many darkspawn as they can before they fall.  But for us all to hear it at once? Wardens are known for doing what needs to be done at any cost… but I see fear in the faces of those brave men and women.

The Warden Commander is calling a meeting, and as I stand with my fellow brothers and sisters, I examine the man standing next to her.  There is something familiar about him, his manner of dress, perhaps, something that pokes at the curtain in my mind, stirring the evanescent spectres of days long gone.

Commander Clarel clears her throat before beginning.  “I have an announcement to make. We know that the hour is growing late; Wardens everywhere are hearing the song.  But if we are to perish, we must to what we can first to stop the Blight. I have consulted with a new ally, and some of you will be undergoing a ritual that will help.”

The crowd bursts out in murmured conversations.  Louis, one of the few Wardens I have managed to get to know, leans close to me and whispers in his thick Orlesian accent, “A magic ritual?  If there is a ritual that can help us stop the Blight why have we not heard about ‘zis before?”

“You know my opinion of magic,” I comment tersely.  “This speaks of desperation to me, not strategy.”

“Shh, lower your voice, Wulf.  I agree with you, of course, but you do not want to end up hunted like Alistair,” Louis cautions.  “He questioned Clarel’s decisions and look where it got ‘im.”

“What are you two whispering about?” questions another voice.  I look over to see Ellery, another Warden I’ve spent some time with.  He’s watching the two of us with great curiosity. The boy is nice enough, but his youthful enthusiasm will one day get him killed, I’m sure.

“Nothing, we should listen to the rest to avoid missing something,” I point out and we turn our attention back to the Warden Commander.  She announces a few names of those who will undergo this ritual of hers.  _ Hmm, mostly mages, _ I note.

“Sounds like you are off ‘ze hook, yes?” Louis teases quietly, and I flash him an amused grin.  

“For now, it seems,” I reply.  Ellery looks between the two of us, and nods, getting enough of an impression of our topic of conversation to put it together.

 

* * *

 

Weeks pass, with more and more Wardens undergoing this “special ritual” of Clarel’s.  Many never return, and we are told that they are serving in a separate unit from the rest of us.  Louis, Ellery, and I all agree: we don’t want to be chosen for whatever this is.

Still, the song grows louder with each passing day.  I spend more time in the company of my companions, more often drunk than not, as it makes it harder to hear the maddening melody.  I’m beginning to understand why most Wardens seek their own death.  _ Perhaps it’s not the Blight at all, and the song merely aggravates you to insanity. _  But, even if I left the other Wardens, where would I go?  I know I must have gone to the Deep Roads to prepare for my Joining, but I have no memory of the journey, or how to get there, and I know nowhere else that I would find refuge.  So I stay.

At least I am not alone here; I have Ellery and Louis.  My memory of my Joining may be hazy, but I do remember the days after, adjusting to my new role as a Grey Warden.  One day in particular stood clear. I had been assigned to spar against Louis, a test of my skill. I did not know him, but It did not take long to see why he had been chosen: he was a master of shield work.  I preferred two-handed weapons to Louis’s style, but I needed to be prepared to go up against such a foe.

I watched his movements, light on my own feet, adjusting my grip on my greatsword.  I turned, bringing my blade to bear against him, but again, he tilted his shield, and with a shove, deflected the blow.  After a few minutes of this dance, we were both sweating and I could tell we had gathered a crow on onlookers. Finally, he gave an opening, and I took it, slicing my sword upward at an angle.

I realized my mistake a second too late: his “opening” had been a calculated maneuver, and he braced the bottom of his shield against my sword, pinning it, as he finally swung his own longsword with a flourish.  The blade never connected, of course. We were only sparring, after all.

He pulled his shield back and I allowed my greatsword to rest on the ground as I extended a hand to him.

“Well fought,” I congratulated him.

“I could say ‘ze same of you, Brother,” he answered, a small smile of approval pulling at the corners of his mouth.  “I am glad to have you at my side, and not on ‘ze other.”

Friendship, I think, my thoughts pulled back to the present.  I hadn’t expected to find anything like that here, but it was a comfort sometimes.  _  I wonder if I had friends in my life before the Wardens? _

Hawke’s face crosses my memory, only this time, it’s not her agonized expression as she walked away.  She’s smiling at me, her eyes sparkling with humor and laughing at something I said, sitting near a fire in expensive surroundings and holding a glass of wine loosely in her hand.   _ Where was that? _  I don’t remember the place, but if we were friends once, it makes Hawke’s betrayal that much worse.   _ I’d like to find that bitch and remove her head from her shoulders.  Maybe then I can find peace. _

The nights are the worst, dreams and nightmares.  So I drink myself into a stupor nearly every night in an attempt to find the blissful oblivion of dreamless sleep.  Most nights, it is fruitless, and I count the seconds as I wait for morning, praying sleep and its terrors do not find me.  I have awakened a few times in the bed of another Warden, or with one of them in mine. It seems my interest lies in both women and men, but I have no interest in carnal pleasures at all without the wine.  It triggers a memory of pain, but like so many of the others, it remains unknown to me.

Ellery approaches me, with a furtive glance behind him to make sure no one is following.  “Wulf, have you heard?”

My deadpan expression must be enough for him as he continues.  “I guess you haven’t, then, huh? We’re marching to Adamant!” At my continued lack of expression, he stares at me, incredulous.  “Even you must have heard of Adamant, right?”

I shake my head, but humor him.  “Tell me, Ellery, what is the importance of this place?”

“It was a great Grey Warden fortress of old, during the Second Blight,” he explains, his eyes shining with a fire that tells me he knew  _ a lot _ of old Warden stories.  “The Wardens there held off hordes of darkspawn, and the place shows the scars of their battles to this day.”

Louis pushes off the wall he’d been leaning on and walks to join our conversation.  “You are discussing Adamant, no? I also just learned this news.”

Ellery looks at him.  “Do you know what we’re supposed to be doing there?”

Louis purses his lips, and his brow furrows.  “Probably vanish into nothing, like all ‘ze others.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Louis,” Ellery jokes putting a mocking hand to his forehead.  “You’ll get wrinkles long before you have time to vanish.”

I chuckle at their exchange.  “Well, whatever it is, I gather we will not find out till we get there.”  I flex my hands, feeling the usual tingle from my tattoos.

“You are correct,” Louis says, grinning. “They may just throw us into ‘ze giant pit, instead!”

All three of us laugh.  

I pull out a small flask.  “Ah, then if we are to march to our inevitable deaths, then at least let us go with a few drinks in us!”

Louis nods his head.  “Wulf, that is an excellent suggestion!” He cheers in agreement, and the rest of the day is spent in pleasant numbness.

 

* * *

 

The march feels like it takes forever, over the blistering hot sands of the Western Approach.  There is little to no relief from the unrelenting sun, and I find myself even more short-tempered than usual.  Drinking makes the heat feel worse, and I have had to give up that particular respite for the last few days after making myself ill.  Ellery seems fine, his eyes bright with excitement. Louis perseveres with his usual sardonic humor. But we’re all relieved to see the massive griffon wings appear on the horizon.

“Adamant…” I mutter, pausing in my tracks to take in the sight.  I imagine what the ancient Wardens of old must have thought of this place, standing vigil against the darkspawn threat.  All I know is it means shade, and a break from our march.

We spread out, finding various places to bed down.  Ellery, Louis and I stick together, as usual, choosing one of the side corner rooms as our bunk for the duration.

“The other men are talking about ‘ze Inquisition.  They say they are coming here,” Louis informs us.

“Why do they care?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Ellery agrees.  “Wardens aren’t really involved in politics.  Why would they want to stop us from doing what we can to stop future Blights?”

“I am only telling you what I have heard.  They say the Inquisitor is a… what is the word?  Heretic?”

“I couldn’t care less about religion, either,” I point out.  “Warden business should take priority over anything they have to say.”

“I hope you are right, Wulf.”

We train with the others for the next few days.  More and more leave for the “ritual”. Some of them remain in the fortress after, but they seem different… wrong.  Something is different about them, and I am now more convinced than ever that I want no part of Clarel’s solution.

The next day, the Inquisition forces are spotted, heading our direction.  Louis’s information turned out to be correct. Clarel gathers us again in the main area of the fortress, leaving only the guards on the walls.  I strap my greatsword to my back and head there with the others to hear what she has to say about this new development.

“I told you so,” Louis gloats, smiling.  

“Yes, yes, you were correct,” I concede.

“None of that helps us,” Ellery complains in a whisper, looking back over his shoulder in the direction of the main gate.  “I bet she will tell us we have to fight them. I hear the Inquisitor has nearly all of Ferelden and Orlais at her beck and call.  How are we supposed to stand against that?”

“We were never meant to stand for much longer, anyway,” I point out.  “Better death in battle now than a slow descent into madness. Or whatever has happened to those Clarel has taken.”

“Maker’s Breath, Wulf.  You could be a  _ little _ more optimistic,” Ellery comments.  He stands hunched, evidently mimicking the way I stand.  “We’re all dying anyway, Ellery. Best just to let it happen,” he says in a mocking impression.

I raise my eyebrows and chuckle, despite myself.  His enthusiasm really is infectious. “Ellery, you-”

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Clarel says, getting everyone’s attention.  “As you know, the Inquisition will soon be upon us. Our ally assures us that his plan will help us, both against them, and against the darkspawn.  We can’t be distracted by an outside threat; we must remain focused. We Wardens make the sacrifices others will not. It is time for more of you to undergo the ritual.”

She follows her statement by reading off a list of names.  Neither Ellery nor I are called, but we look at Louis, and all color washes from his face as Clarel says his name.  His eyes flick to us, shaking his head.

“Do not,” he says.  “It is my time. I will do my duty as a Grey Warden.”

He takes a deep breath, and I can tell he is afraid.  I wonder what his reasons are for staying. Unlike me, he has memories of a life before his Joining, he has a life he could return to… for as long as it might last.  The Calling, present in the background of my awareness tells me all I need to know. Louis sees my understanding, and nods.

“You two will carry on for me, no?”  His smile is sad, the look of a man who knows he faces his own mortality.  I steel my expression, and nod. I can do that much for him - to show my respect for his sacrifice.

Ellery, of course, has no such restraint.  “No, Louis!” he says, lurching forward. “Tell them no, don’t do it!”  

I put my arm out, stopping him, shaking my head.

Louis doesn’t respond to Ellery’s outburst, instead walking calmly toward the front of the group, to where the Warden Commander stands waiting.  He does not look back, not once.  _ Farewell, friend. _

“Why didn’t you stop him, Wulf?” Ellery asks, looking up at me, the faint shine of unshed tears in the corner of his eyes.

“I will not cheapen his honor by taking his choice from him.  Did you not see his face? He was prepared to meet his fate.”

“Bullshit,” Ellery swears, squinting to fight back tears.  “If they call my name, I expect you to stop them. Don’t let them take me.”

I nod.  “I have no desire to be subjected to their perversity, either.”

“Promise me, Wulf.  You and I will weather this, together.”

“You ask for things that no one can know.  A battle is coming, and the outcome is uncertain.”

“Promise me you’ll fight to live, then.  Don’t walk calmly to your death like Louis.  Promise me that.”

“Very well.  I cannot rest yet, anyway, not until I crush Hawke’s throat with my bare hands.”

Ellery smiles, despite the grim visual I just described, apparently satisfied with my response.  He and Louis know about Hawke… well, Louis  _ knew. _  I look back at the doorway where had disappeared, walking tall, the last march of a proud Warden.  If he returns, which I doubt, he will be like the others.  _ Magic.   _ Nothing makes me angrier than foolish mages thinking answers can only be found through more dangerous magic.  

It is no wonder that so many become abominations… something flashes through my field of vision: fighting abominations, and Hawke in front of me, her daggers flashing, slicing through one of the horrors in front of us.   _ Wait… I was fighting alongside Hawke? Not against her? _  I grab my head, pain surging through my skull, radiating outward through the lines of my markings.  They’re glowing, something that usually only happens in the heat of battle. Had the memory shaken me so much?

Ellery looks concerned.  “Come on, Wulf, we have to get to our post.  Are you all right?”

“I believe so,” I answer, the hot desert breeze bringing reality back.

“We’re stationed on the battlements.  The enemy has ladders and sappers. Here’s the test of our promise,” Ellery states, smiling.  “In War, Victory.”

I let him lead the way, taking in the rest of the preparations for battle.  Everywhere I look, blue and silver armor flashes in the afternoon sun - a pretty scene for a place that will soon see the slaughter of most of these young men and women.  I take a deep breath, watching the oncoming army. There is nowhere to run, no escape. I look over at Ellery, remembering his plea just a few moments before. Fight. Live.  This is not the end.

 

* * *

 

Flaming debris rains down on the once-sturdy walls of Adamant Fortress.  The walls might have stood against darkspawn before, but they were not built to hold up against modern siege warfare.  Trying to dodge the projectiles, knock the ladders back off, and stay out of arrow range is enough to drain even the most battle-hardened soldier.

A boulder crashed through the ramparts a few yards away, breaking the stone with a deafening crack, and I watch as more of my Warden brothers fall.   _ How many dead already, and they haven’t even breached the main gate? _  I focus my attention on the gap that now exists near me, and I can see another round of ladders coming.

“Ladders!” I call, warning those around me, as I move into action.  A quick glance shows Ellery is still up on the far side from me. Good.  The clack of a ladder sounds, alerting me to a new round of intruders. I wait until they have climbed up a ways before I place both hands on the sides of it and give it a resounding shove, allowing the dangling men to fall.  I huff a breath of satisfaction when I hear their screams end as they landed.

But then another scream sounds: Ellery.  

“No!” I shout, sprinting toward his fallen form, leaping across the gap from the sappers.  A female form stands overtop of Ellery. I grab her hair, lifting her off of my friend, trying to ignore the blood on his face.   _ Maybe it isn’t as bad as it looks.   _ I drop my sword to twist my other hand in her loose armor and toss her like a sack of grain in the other direction, toward the gap.

She stops just short, her head hanging over the broken ledge, and I have both hands on my sword by the time she gains any traction in getting up.

“Ellery,” I call behind me, keeping my eyes on the woman with the daggers.  “Talk to me, friend.”

Silence.  Nothing but an ominous silence.

“Fenris?” the woman asks in a feminine voice.

She stares at me with wide pale blue eyes, and I’m startled with the realization I know her.  Her dark hair and pale skin, with that red swipe across her nose… her image is more familiar to me than my own reflection.

_ “Hawke,” _ I snarl, brandishing my sword.  “I’ve been looking forward to this for a  _ very  _ long time.”

I launch an attack, swinging my greatsword toward her.  She gasps, not expecting my attack, but deflects it with her daggers, dancing gracefully out of the way of my blade.

“What are you doing?!  Fenris?” Her eyes are pleading with me, hurt registering there.   _ That bitch left me for dead, why would she feel hurt? _

“My name is Wulf,” I bite out, swinging again, but this time she’s ready for me.  She hops across the gap, still staring at me with her mouth agape.

“What  _ happened _ to you?  You’re a Warden?  I searched everywhere for you!”

“Do not take me for a fool, I know what you did!”  I make the jump easily, backing her up. I shove another ladder off with one hand before striking again, this time low.  She jumps, avoiding the blow, but lands on a patch of loose debris and loses her footing, falling backwards.

Her eyes widen as she stares up at me, and I feel the rage building, the power of the marks igniting.  My hand is enveloped in blue energy, and I reach toward her, my revenge so tantalizingly close, but just as my hand nearly touches her, another memory slams into me.

The taste of her kisses, her breath becoming one with my own, the salt of her tears as she weeps for the loss of… someone.  Her pale skin illuminated by the light of the fire, looking at me with tenderness shining her eyes, kiss-swollen lips saying the words “I love you”.  

Something inside me breaks, and I gasp as though I have been gutted.

I withdraw from her, the glow dying.  I shake my head, trying to clear it. 

“Marian…” I choke out.

“Wulf?” Ellery’s small voice sounds from the corner.  I look at him and see he’s still slumped where he had fallen before.

I turn back to Hawke, conflicted.  Part of me still wants to kill her, to reach out and extinguish the life from those beautiful eyes.  But I can’t bring myself to do it. I loved this woman. And she had loved me once.

“Just go,” I tell her, hanging my head in frustration.  “I need to see to him.”

She scrambles to her feet and flees to the end of the walkway.  More of her team are coming, an elf in the shining armor of the Inquisition, leading a few others, including a giant Qunari warrior.   _ The Inquisitor, _ I realize.

I jump back across to Ellery and examine his wound.  The bleeding is bad, and his breathing is shallow. I press my hands to the cut, trying to stem the flow, but within seconds, my hands are coated and slippery from his blood.  Ellery’s eyes become unfocused, and I know he does not have long if I cannot stop the bleeding.

“You need to fight, friend.  Fight to live,” I tell him, reminding him.  “You promised.”

His mouth moves, but no words come out.  I am able to read his lips enough to pick up the words “not ready”.

“I need a healer!” I shout.  My heart is pounding hard, thumping inside my rib cage with each beat.  I had not known either of them for long, but Louis and Ellery were the only friends I could remember.  For all I know, they were the only ones I had ever had. Louis was already gone, beyond help. Ellery is all I have left.

But no help comes for him either.  I sit at his side, holding his hand as I watch fear take him, gasping, his breath rasping harshly, and then, finally, thankfully, the life drains from his eyes.  His breathing stops, and his body goes still.

“Your fight is over, Brother,” I say quietly, reaching up to close his eyelids.  

I lower my head to his.

 

* * *

 

I see much from my perch on the battlements and it leaves me sickened.  My own people summoned  _ demons, _ tore open holes in reality.   _ This _ was our “solution”?  The worst came when the terrifying screech sounded, everything below halting as though frozen when the archdemon flew overhead.  Every eye in Adamant watched as the grotesque beast crashed down on one of the landings below. 

I stayed with Ellery through it all, no longer caring about the rest.   _ If my death comes for me, then let it come.   _ A sting of pain brings my attention to my hands, and I realize that my fists are clenched so hard that my fingernails are digging into my skin.  I force my hands to release.

_ The Wardens caused all of this, with filthy blood magic.  The Inquisitor was right to have come, to have fought against us, to have…  _ I look down at young Ellery, so full of life only a few hours prior.  He deserved better than this.

Eventually, the sounds of the conflict end, the archdemon is gone and they find me, still slumped over his form.   _ She _ is there, of course.  Ellery’s murderer. But she had not known who he was, he was just another Warden to her.  Along with Hawke is the Inquisitor and a dwarf with a large crossbow. 

“Well, shit, I didn’t believe you when you said it,” the dwarf said, “but it’s really him.”

I look at the dwarf, trying to search my memory for him, but as usual, I come up with nothing.  If I’d known him, I can’t remember now.

“This is your friend, Champion?” The Inquisitor asks of Hawke, who nods.

“His name is Fenris.  We were… he was with us in Kirkwall.  But I think something happened to him; he says his name is Wulf, now.  And he’s obviously a Warden, but I don’t know how that happened.”

The dwarf looks at her.  “Well, didn’t he say once that Danarius called him his ‘little wolf’?  Maybe that’s where he got it.”

_ Danarius?  That sounds familiar. _  I grasp at the threads of thought, but they dissipate like smoke.  But one thing is clear: I had told this dwarf something about myself.  I  _ had _ known him once.

“Wulf?” the Inquisitor asked, taking a step forward.  “Your friends speak very highly of you. I’m sorry for the circumstances of our meeting, but I want to offer you a place with us, if you like.”

I frown, looking down at Ellery.

“I need to see to my friend’s remains.  It is the least I can do for one of the best men I knew.”

“Of course,” the Inquisitor says.  “He was human, do you think a pyre would be acceptable?  We’ve been building some below for the others.”

I nod and stand.  I pick up Ellery’s body, carrying him in my arms.  I take him down the stairs and outside the fortress to where the pyres have been built.  I stand watching as the Inquisition’s mages cast their fire spells, igniting the kindling.  Finally, I am able to take a deep breath at last, as I watch my friend put to rest.

Afterwards, I make my way back inside, looking for Louis.  I’m glad to see that some the Wardens made it through the fight.  Apparently, the Inquisitor wants them to join, made them the same offer he had made me.

I don’t find Louis anywhere.  I think I would have been more relieved to find a corpse than to find nothing.  What did they do to him? I sigh. Any sense of direction or purpose I had is now gone.  I’m a Warden, but what does that mean now? Even Alistair had stayed behind in the Fade. Everyone I have ever known is gone… well, that isn’t exactly true, I guess.

_ Marian. _  My eyes seek her out and see her talking with the dwarf and an elven mage.  I think back on the memory of our time together, now as clear as the other memories I have of her.  We’d been lovers, that much is obvious, but if that was the case, why do I remember the other scene, with my blood on the white paving stones?  I can’t seem to make sense of the two dichotomous images in my head. I realize there is one way to satisfy my curiosity and walk toward her.

She looks up, the smile dying on her face as she sees me approaching her.

“Fenr-I mean, Wulf.  Hello.”

“Either is fine.  May I speak with you?” I ask, my eyes flicking over to the dwarf and the elf she had been conversing with.

“Yes, I think we should talk,” she answers with a nod, the same sad expression on her features.  “See you later, Varric.”

_ Varric, yes.  The dwarf’s name is Varric.  And… Bianca? Who is Bianca? _  I dismiss the useless thoughts and follow Hawke as she leads the way to a more private area where we can talk.  We climb the central tower, now broken in several places, stopping inside the staircase, near the top level. She sits on the steps near a gaping hole in the wall, and pats next her, showing she wants me to sit there.  I remain standing.

“You seem to have lost your memory,” she says, looking up at me.

“Yes.  When the Wardens found me, I was little more than an animal.  The Warden Commander believed blood magic had been used to wipe my memory, but I don’t know who would have bothered.”

“Danarius would have, but we killed him.  Maybe someone who knew about you, that knew about your tattoos,” she said, reaching out as though to touch my arm.  

I flinch, pulling away from her, and almost feel sorry when I saw the hurt cross her features.

I scowl.  “I only had two memories when I came here: my name, and you.”

She smiles, but I shake my head.

“It was not a pleasant memory.  I was injured, dying, and you walked away from me with a blonde man.”

“A blonde man?  That has to be Anders,” she states, and like the other things I had heard today, it rings with truth.  “But I wasn’t leaving you. You and I… we were…”

“Yes,” I reply with a grunt.  “I remember that much, at least.”

“Anders did a terrible thing.  You didn’t agree with my decision to forgive him, but you stood with us at the last.  You were right behind us, but when I looked back, you were gone. I had no idea what happened to you, and I hunted  _ everywhere. _  I even had Varric contact people he knew in Tevinter, thinking maybe one of Danarius’s people had found you.”

“Tevinter?” I ask and think about her words.  “I am sorry, I have no memory of such a place.”

She sighs, looking at me, concern carved into the delicate wrinkle of her brow.

“Terrible things happened to you there, and you were just getting the memories back of your former life when you disappeared.  Fenris, I never would have left you. I… I cared for you a great deal.”

“And do you still?” I ask before I can pull the words back.

“Yes,” she says with no hesitation.

“Marian,” I say, the very word a caress from my lips.

I reach for her, and she comes willingly, unafraid, her form leaning toward my own.  My hand trails over her shoulder, upwards to the nape of her neck, my fingers sliding into her hair.  She allows the contact, her breath escaping her slightly parted lips, and I know what she wants. I remember doing it before, stealing her kisses.  Her hand raises to touch me in return, but I see Ellery’s face in my mind, his blood coursing over my palms as I try to stave off the inevitable.

“No,” I say, pulling back from her, holding her hands, instead.  “These hands took the life of my friend today. The only friend I have any memory of.”

She winces, guilt twisting her features.  “I’m sorry about your friend,” she says, pulling her hands back, and placing them in her lap.

“You bear no fault in this,” I tell her.  “You were right to stop them from what they were doing.  The rest of us were told little of Clarel’s  _ ritual,” _ I spit out of the word.  “But I should have known. Magic ruins all it touches.”

That gets a smile from her, but I don’t understand.

“You always used to say that,” she explains.  “That was before. You got along well enough with my sister, Bethany, and she’s a mage.”

I shake my head.

“I want to show you something,” Hawke says, and stands. 

She unties a tattered piece of fabric from her belt.  It is red, but other than that, I cannot make out what it once was.

“I do not understand.  Am I to recognize this?”

Another sigh.  “We were apart before, for a time.  You were dealing with a lot and didn’t believe you could be with me.  And yet you wore this, every day - my family’s crest - showing me the whole time you were still loyal.”  She swallows, and a few emotions play over her face. “I carry it with me because it still means a lot to me.”

I shake my head again, but an ache burns in my chest.

“I want to do the same for you,” she says, her words stealing what breath I had left.

“What?” I snap.   


“Give me something that belongs to you… please.  I know you’re not ready, but I want something to remind you every day, like you did for me.  Even if you never return my feelings again, I want you to always know I’m here, and I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

Her words pierce like knives.  Someone who wants to be next to me?  I remember that scene with the white paving stones, and I try to weigh it against what I’ve seen of the woman in front of me.  Is it possible that my memory is false? Even my memory of my name was in error. I look down at my blood-soaked uniform. Nothing there will serve.

I reach underneath and pull off the only thing I can think of: the amulet they created when I underwent my Joining.  I hold it in my hand and show it to her.

“When one becomes a Warden, they are given an amulet like this one.  It is a symbol of their commitment and sacrifice, their oath.”

“This is important to you,” she says.  “Are you sure you want me to have this?”

I nod, and she accepts it, slipping it over her head easily.  It falls to rest against her red leather breastplate, looking a little out of place against the leather and fur.  

She smiles at me.  “Thank you. I’ll head back now, but I’m here whenever you need.  I know eventually I’ll be called to Weisshaupt to report about what happened here to the main Warden base.  I hope when the time comes, you’ll consider coming with me.”

I watch the gentle sway of her hips as she walks away, back down the stairs toward where she left the others.  Today is for saying goodbye to the friends I had known. After that, I do not know; Weisshaupt sounds as good a direction as any.  A smile comes unbidden, thinking about it. Fool woman will probably need my help, anyway.


End file.
